


In Tandem

by bloodsongs



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-15
Updated: 2013-06-15
Packaged: 2017-12-15 02:27:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/844247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodsongs/pseuds/bloodsongs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin doesn't scream out from shock, but it's a near thing. He does fall back a little, though, and when he turns abruptly to where the source of the voice is, Leon meets his startled gaze with his own. They share a moment of completely awkward and utterly inappropriate silence as Arthur continues to splash water on himself in the lake, still oblivious and naked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Tandem

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by (and story largely based on) Amph's art [here](http://bamphigoury.livejournal.com/891.html). It's awesome and completely pervy. Check it out.

Merlin's lost count of the number of times Hunith'd scolded him for poking his nose into everyone else's business, like when he hid behind barrels and watched the baker's wife getting it off with her husband's brother in a shed or snooped around to see if Will's uncle Henry really was a werewolf (he was young, and Will had been a pillock of epic proportions for playing that prank on him).   
  
But this? If Hunith ever finds out, she would box his ears so hard he'd see stars, and possibly, nay, most certainly have his  _hide_.  
  
What a terrible violation of Arthur's privacy, Merlin thinks, as he crouches further behind a rock, his hands trembling against the edge of his shirt. He doesn't know what came over him, his making a decision to follow Arthur this time when he'd declared he was going to take a bath in the lake nearby. Merlin might've tried to turn back once or twice, steps locking into place as he told himself what a ridiculous idea it was, that he wouldn't be able to explain it to Arthur if he was discovered, ever, without coming across as a total pervert.  
  
And then, before he knew it, they'd reached the edge of the lake, and Merlin had scrambled to hide as Arthur set his things down and began to undress. He'd watched, honest to goodness  _watched_ , equal parts horrified at himself and so, so captivated by the simple act of Arthur peeling his tunic off, because sweet horse bits on a stick, Arthur's physique was flawless, all golden lines of muscles and fine dusting of hair on his arms and legs.   
  
And  _such_  legs.  
  
Ugh. The powerful legs that haunt his dreams, those thighs taut and shuddering beneath his hands as Arthur bucks into his wet and willing mouth, recurring scenes in Merlin's deepest fantasies. Yet, here they are, on full display, in front of Merlin. Even if Arthur's blissfully unaware of that.  
  
Arthur's some distance away from him now, but Merlin can still hear his muffled curse about the cold as a soft splash resounds in the area. He peeks out, just a little, and sees Arthur bending over to wet the rag he's got in his hand, offering Merlin a perfect view of the line of his back, curving down to his pert, plump arse. Merlin wants to sink his teeth into it. He whimpers a little to himself, and bites down on his right hand, fighting the urge to touch himself, because that'll just make his little voyeuristic act escalate to full-on wrongness.  
  
When Arthur stands back up, still cursing colourfully and gritting his teeth, he drags the wet rag over his left shoulder, painting a wet, glistening path down his arm. It's a slow, torturous drag that highlights an obscene shine off his biceps, the water trickling down to his collarbone, chest, and catching for just the briefest of moments over a nipple.  
  
Something inside Merlin's mind completely blanks out, and when he's gibbering to himself and finally regains some sense of composure, he's got his breeches opened and his laces thrown unceremoniously behind him, a hand racking up his own tunic and his own cold fingers on his cock. He hisses at the contact, just a little, because it really is fucking freezing — not for the first time, he blames his conscience for not being persuasive enough.  
  
Fuck it. If he's going to be a total pervert, he's going to damned well have a good wanking time of it.  
  
Arthur's turning his back now, and there's something about the wet hair at his nape that just completely undoes Merlin, the water setting off the sheen of his skin. He's such an image, all shades of gold and tanned skin against the cold, gray beauty of their surroundings; it takes Merlin's breath away. He's fisting his cock harder now, hating himself a little bit because this is different from just closing his eyes and imagining Arthur's petulant mouth on him, this is Arthur being actually, gloriously nude in front of him, with the evening sun casting his hair in a kind of halo, and... well. Merlin's forgotten the argument.  
  
He murmurs Arthur's name, letting his eyes shutter as he loses himself in the feeling of the heat around his cock, imagines walking up to Arthur right there and having, gods, having Arthur invite him in. Maybe Arthur would push him down against the sand, smirk at him, looking all damnably appealing as he said something completely clichéd like, "knew you couldn't resist me," before kissing the living daylights out of him. Ah, if only.  
  
"Merlin?" Someone whispers.  
  
Merlin doesn't scream out from shock, but it's a near thing. He does fall back a little, though, and when he turns abruptly to where the source of the voice is, Leon meets his startled gaze with his own. They share a moment of completely awkward and utterly inappropriate silence as Arthur continues to splash water on himself in the lake, still oblivious and naked.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Merlin asks after a beat, feeling his face flushing, but then his eyes drop to where Leon's breeches are undone, too, and his hand is suspiciously hidden from view. "Oh."  
  
"Shhh. Keep it down. And yes,  _oh_." Leon chuckles, voice low and embarrassed. When he looks at Merlin from top to bottom, he has no reservations about letting his gaze linger. Merlin shifts a little under the scrutiny. "Enjoying the view?"  
  
"Speak for yourself." Merlin grins now, relieved, because... well, nothing as comforting as discovering you're not the only pervert in your current company.   
  
"Oh, I am." Leon tilts his head at Arthur. "He's quite magnificent, our prince."  
  
"That he is."  
  
Leon puts a finger to his lips, and winks at Merlin. "Let's not speak of this. Our little secret, if you will."  
  
"Certainly." Merlin laughs softly, and feels an idea forming. He crooks a finger in a come-hither motion. "A show's better with company, isn't it?"  
  
He feels some satisfaction when he sees Leon's eyes widen, and even more so when there's no refusal, just a dawning realisation as to what Merlin's getting at — and an expression forming that implies he likes the idea. "Are you sure?"  
  
"Get over here, Leon." Merlin scuttles back, making room. "Lots of space for two."  
  
"Well, look at you, Merlin," Leon breathes. He quickly crawls over, and then he's pressing himself against Merlin's back, pushing him against the rock. "Wouldn't have thought you had it in you."  
  
Merlin snorts, but it stutters into a moan when Leon slides a hot hand up his stomach and under his tunic, those sword-calloused fingers pinching at his nipple. "Neither did I," he says, leaning his head back against Leon's shoulder, taking in the smell of him. "A day of discoveries. Finding out I'm a complete pervert, wanking to the sight of Arthur bathing, finding I'm not alone with my twisted thoughts and... now I'm, ah, getting debauched by a knight."  
  
Leon smiles against his neck, his fingers brushing against the trail of dark hair leading down between Merlin's legs. Merlin spreads his legs a little further, knees knocking against some stones, but it's a good burn, especially when Leon fists his hand around him. "Oh, Merlin. It doesn't have to be just you." And then a hand's tugging at Merlin's left one, dragging it down to nudge against the warmth of Leon's cock, longer than Merlin's own and with a dusting of dark red hair instead. "You can debauch me, too."  
  
"You knights and your terrible sense of humour." He complies, though, spreading a palm against the rock as Leon's hand on him speeds up and he matches that rhythm, hearing the hitch of Leon's breath behind him. Arthur's stepped out to a more shallow part of the lake to draw the wet cloth over his legs, down to the crease of his hips and thighs, and—  
  
Merlin comes at the sight of Arthur touching himself as he lets the cloth fall on the surface of the lake, and presses his forehead against the rock, feeling his orgasm overwhelm him. Leon chokes out his name just scant moments later, lips against Merlin's nape, seed spilling all over Merlin's fingers.  
  
"Wow," Merlin manages, after a moment. "Well."  
  
"We should do this more often," Leon says, drawing back, and fastening his breeches. "That was really something else."  
  
"Wasn't it?"  
  
"Heh, yes. And Arthur..." Leon leans forward, as if imparting a dirty little secret. "He bathes like that, all the time, and it always ends with a wank. If I didn't know better, I'd say our prince was a bit of an exhibitionist."  
  
Merlin looks towards the lake, fixing his neckerchief, to where Arthur's drawing the cloth now over his neck, moaning softly as he pulls. "I'd agree with you, at that."  
  
"Let's head back to camp, then?"  
  
He nudges Leon's shoulder, giving him a sly look. "Until next time."


End file.
